Ronan: Ziva Payvan Book 3 (13 page)

“He
was
trying to take me,” Ziva spat. “Everything I told HSP during that time was true, except for the fact that I knew him. He was trying to persuade me to come with him to a new Resistance base, and when I refused, he tried to take me by force. It was self-defense.”

She stopped when she heard her own words. She’d forgotten much about that final conversation with Gamon, but one part had always stuck with her: the part where he’d tried to treat her as an object of his own creation. His voice echoed through her memory:
“You have no future here. Come with me to Forus. There’s a new Resistance hideout there, and they’re trying to develop a new nostium formula. As a Haphezian, you’d be an invaluable asset. Come put your talents to good use and help us make a difference. I’ve spent twelve years creating the perfect warrior; don’t tell me it was all for nothing.”

“By the five moons,” she murmured. “Forus.”

“Forus?” Emeri repeated.

“That’s where he wanted to take me,” she said with a scoff and a wag of her head. “He said there was a new Resistance base there. And that GA fighter that crashed at the base?” She had to suppress a curse as her voice rose in volume. “Major Sheen told me it was one of several ships presumed lost in a battle near Forus a few years ago. The autopilot system was online but it still would have needed a carrier to bring it to the area. Sheen said they had people trying to salvage what was left of the internal computer – any news on that front?”

Emeri shook his head. “There was too much damage. No way to review the ship’s flight path or see who engaged the autopilot system. They did find evidence of sabotage in the engine compartment though. Looks like a small charge was detonated remotely to cause the crash.”

“You’re saying the Resistance captured that fighter and had it all this time?” Aroska said. “Then they brought it back here and used it against us?”

Ziva shrugged. “It worked, didn’t it? No one at the base even noticed anything was wrong until it started coming down. I’m lucky they noticed when they
did
or that thing would have landed right on top of me.”

Aroska’s reaction to her words took her by surprise. Concern flashed through his eyes, akin to what she’d seen in the brief moments of clarity while lying on the Argall landing pad in a puddle of her own blood. “You were that close?” he said quietly.

“I was. Could have been inside the mess hall – that would have been interesting.”

Emeri spoke up again before Aroska could respond. “If Ronan has had this fighter for all these years and sent it back here for the sole purpose of crashing it on the moon and exposing people to this…this
nostium
, that leads me to believe there’s been a plan to attack us all along.”

“Why the hell would they want to attack us?” Aroska scoffed. “We’ve been nothing but neutral throughout their entire war with the Federation.”

“No, no, that doesn’t make any sense.” Ziva massaged her temples. “Nostium isn’t lethal. They wouldn’t have used it if the intent was to kill. Unless…” She looked to Emeri, wide-eyed. “You said Kat’s substance and the gas were
nearly
identical? There were differences?”

He nodded. “The labs have reported subtle differences in the molecular structure. It’s clear the two substances were designed to have the same effect, but they are, nevertheless, different.”

“
Sheyss
. These are new formulas.”

“What?”

“Gamon said they’d been working to develop a new formula after the Federation destroyed all their former development facilities. And Jayden!” Ziva whirled toward Aroska. “You were there! At dinner that night, Jayden Saiffe said something about Nosti resurfacing around the galaxy. I just ignored it because that’s what we always do, and let’s face it, he was trying my patience. But they’re resurfacing because they’ve got a
frouchten
new formula.”

He crossed his arms. “If they’ve been working on it for over ten years, why is it still causing so many problems?”

Ziva paused when she realized she’d begun pacing back and forth in front of the table. “Imperfections, or maybe these are just bad batches,” she said, talking more to herself than anyone else. “The Feds hunted and killed any known Nosti – that’s why Gamon came here to begin with – and the Resistance facilities were all demolished. They would have had to start developing a new formula from scratch. That would take time and involve a lot of trial and error.” She crossed her arms and stared vacantly at the tinted picture window for a moment. “It almost seems like this formula is too strong. The one Kat was injected with acted more slowly but still overwhelmed her nervous system. The gas on Na was quicker, though still not as quick as nostium is supposed to be, and again it’s proving to be too much for the victims to handle.”

It seemed like Emeri hadn’t stopped shaking his head since the beginning of the conversation. “Clearly some Nosti survived. Why not just take blood samples from them and synthesize a new formula that way?”

“It doesn’t work like that. Nostium is supposed to be undetectable in the bloodstream. This stuff
is
detectable, which is just one more factor that leads me to believe it’s too strong. Too potent, if you will. I never learned much about how it works but I know it only stays in the bloodstream until it reaches the brain. It’s been engineered to pass through the blood-brain barrier and it essentially ‘sticks’ in the brain, stimulating the subject until it wears off. Standard procedure was to receive a fresh nostium infusion every six years, but it’s been…
had been
over nine years since my last infusion and I could still feel traces of it.”

Emeri and Aroska could only stare at her as if they still couldn’t believe what they were hearing. She doubted either of them had ever taken much time to really consider the weight of her secret. Neither of them had ever expected it to end up playing such a pivotal role, especially not in agency matters. She hadn’t, either.

“So there’s no ‘cure,’ per se,” Emeri said. “Even though the nostium isn’t hurting you, we can’t, say, draw your blood and distribute it to the other victims.”

Ziva shook her head. “That wouldn’t accomplish anything.”

“What about a scan? You said your brain has already been properly conditioned. We can see how this stuff is supposed to be working, compare it to the scans from everyone on Na, maybe figure out some way to counteract it.”

“Could something like that be done in time to save those people?” Aroska asked.

“It’s doubtful,” Emeri replied. “They’re in bad shape. Many of them are already starting to exhibit the same symptoms Ms. Reilly documented in her friend’s final days.”

“Then what would a scan accomplish?” Ziva said, finally resigning to a nearby chair.

“We’re not going to take the Resistance’s actions lightly. This has never been our fight, but whether we like it or not, it is now. If this thing escalates, or if Ronan decides to try anything else, we need to be prepared.”

“And who would do the scan? One of you? It’s not like I can just waltz into a med center and tell them everything I know.”

“I know that.” The director pulled up another chair and sat down in front of her. “But this is information the government and military need to know. Everyone has to understand what we’re really dealing with here. We can have the scan done by someone we trust, and nobody will have to know exactly where the information came from.”

“And who exactly do ‘we’ trust enough to do something like that?”

He shrugged as if the answer were obvious. “Anson Baez.”

Ziva tilted her head, staring him down through slightly narrowed eyes. “Look, I liked the guy and all, but not enough to go spill my life secret to him.”

“You think he doesn’t already know, Ziva?”

Her train of thought came crashing to a stop and she saw Emeri bristle in response to the look she gave him. “
What?
” she said through her teeth, standing back up.

“Just listen for a minute before you blow up on me,” he said, speaking with the same authority as he had upon her arrival home from Na. He rose to his feet as well. “Baez is an old friend. He was the field medic assigned to the unit of marines I accompanied back during the Fringe War. Saved my life twice. We’ve kept in contact ever since.”

“But—”

“You think I had you dragged all over the planet after Argall for no reason? I wanted you back here at HSP’s med center so we’d have control over the situation. Once they’d confirmed your head injuries, I wanted someone trustworthy to handle them. We couldn’t have just anyone monitoring your brain activity. Baez had already agreed to oversee your rehab but I brought him on board early so I could have him running point throughout your entire treatment process. He’s owed me a favor for the past couple of years, and he has made good on that favor by maintaining confidentiality.”

Baez
had
struck her as being someone she could trust, a trait she often had trouble finding in people. At the moment however, Ziva’s attention was divided between the fact that the doctor had known her secret the whole time and the fact that Emeri had managed to pull one over on her. As tempting as it was to yell and threaten to never trust him again, she knew he’d made the right move. Briefing a single, dependable ally was better than having the whole planet find out while she’d been incapacitated in the hospital, and to Baez’s credit, she hadn’t even picked up on the fact that he was keeping something from her.

Aroska had been looking rather lost for the past couple of minutes, but he stepped forward and shrugged. “If that’s the case, I’d have to agree that bringing him into the picture now would be a smart move. Even if it’s too late to save the soldiers who were exposed, we need to be able to defend ourselves against potential Resistance attacks in the future.”

“I’ll contact Baez and have him come down here,” Emeri said. “He’s probably still expecting me to send you back to Na for examination. We can have him run the tests at our facility and then send the results back to the GA’s neurologists under an anonymous name.”

“And what happens when people start wondering why I haven’t shown any symptoms?” Ziva said.

Both men were silent for a moment as if neither of them had given it much thought yet. “We’ll think of something,” Emeri assured her. “Not that many people know you were on Na in the first place, and even fewer are aware of the fact that you were at ground zero. For now, we can just say there’s been a delay in the manifestation of the symptoms.”

“That’s probably not going to fly for very long,” Ziva scoffed. “But while we’re contacting the military, I’d suggest withdrawing the garrison currently stationed at Tantal. If the Federation doesn’t even know about this new nostium formula, I shudder to think of how Jayden Saiffe knew the Nosti were resurfacing. Tantal claims to be an independent colony, but if I didn’t know any better, I’d say the Tantalis have been involved with the Resistance to some extent. We shouldn’t take any chances.”

“Duly noted,” Emeri said. “Let’s not waste any more time.” He moved to one of the comm pads at the table, dismissing the two of them with a dip of his head.

Ziva could hear him initiating the transmission as they walked out. She stiffened a bit when she felt Aroska place a reassuring hand on the back of her shoulder. It was more startling than anything; she
did
feel…well, reassured. For a moment she tried to imagine what the situation would be like if she’d never saved his life at Dakiti. He’d be dead, Emeri wouldn’t know about her Nostia, and right now she’d either be confessing everything for the first time or standing by and letting people die. She had to admit it felt good to have someone backing her up.

“We’ve gotten ourselves caught up in quite the
sheyss
storm, haven’t we?” he muttered.

She sighed. “We sure have.”

-22-

Meanwhile…

Patrol Frigate
Vigilance

Fringe Space

Regardless of how many times she saw it, the wide view of open space through her cabin’s viewport took Commander Sadey Payne’s breath away. She caught herself when she realized she was staring and returned her attention to the workbench in front of her. The repairs to her kytara were nearly complete; a few more minor tweaks were all it would take to realign the left blade and keep it from catching on the inside of the grip every time it engaged. The damage had been done during a practice duel nearly a week prior, leaving her with only a single functional blade the previous day when she’d faced a real threat. She cursed herself for having been too busy – and maybe even too lazy – to fix it sooner.

The PF
Vigilance
drifted through empty space as her crew awaited the all-clear signal from Forus Command. To any passersby, they were a trade ship transporting businesspeople and merchandise to and from the hundreds of manufacturing plants and conference centers Forus boasted. As such, they actually had to do some transporting every so often in order to maintain a legitimate façade, but much of that transportation was between the various companies controlled covertly by the Resistance. Very few people paid them any mind out here so far from the Core worlds, but on the off chance they were stopped by a Federation patrol, they had a legitimate shipping manifest and carried legitimate clients with legitimate destinations. It just so happened that most of those clients were Resistance agents.

In reality, the
Vigilance
was a battle-ready vessel with thirty guns – for protecting valuable cargo and passengers, as far as the authorities were concerned – a crew of two hundred trained soldiers who could double as civilians at the blink of an eye, state-of-the-art anti-plasma shielding, and two hidden cargo bays that had been retrofitted to house up to three shuttles and ten fighters simultaneously. The entire ship was one big undercover operation, and Sadey couldn’t have been more proud of the job her crew was doing keeping it that way.

She allowed an exasperated growl to escape her throat and swiveled in her chair to search the cabin for the tiny set of pliers she’d been holding only minutes before. Just as she’d suspected, they were sitting on the corner of her desk across the room, right where she’d set them when she’d gotten up to respond to an incoming transmission. With a sigh, she stretched out her hand and called to them with her mind. They were in her grasp a split second later, and a faint tingle continued to creep through her skin as she began putting the finishing touches on the kytara.

She set the restored weapon down but only got to admire it for a full two seconds before there was a knock on her cabin door. Performing the delicate repairs had kept her mind occupied as she’d waited for Ronan’s instructions, and the sudden presence of another crewmember reminded her that they had a job to do.

“Enter,” she called, rising to her feet.

The door hissed open and a striking young man with jet-black hair and pale blue eyes entered – just the man she’d wanted to see. Lieutenant Jalen Gero stopped and stood at attention, giving her a quick salute. “You said I should report to you at sixteen hundred, ma’am,” he said in a clipped, efficient tone.

Sadey offered a salute in return, chagrined that the time had managed to creep up on her. “Just wanted to double check and make sure you’ve been fully briefed on all the mission parameters.”

“Yes ma’am,” he replied, clasping his hands behind his back. His blue eyes had taken on that same cold quality Sadey often recognized in her covert operatives. He was only in his mid-twenties, but he’d become one of the finest soldiers under her command. He’d already donned a black stealth suit in preparation for his upcoming assignment, and he stood there watching her with a calculating gaze and certain attention to detail that told her he was well-versed in his field. Like many of their people, he was of average-verging-on-small stature but no less capable for it. The smaller build made them all more effective in the realm of melee combat, an art which valued speed, agility, and dexterity over brute force and size.

“I’m confident that you understand the ‘what’ of this mission,” Sadey said, “but do you understand the ‘why?’ It’s important to me that you do.”

Jalen hesitated. “I understand the basics.”

It wasn’t quite the answer Sadey wanted to hear. “The experiment on the Haphezian moon didn’t work – we’ve established that much. Oh sure, the distribution method worked splendidly, but this particular nostium formula still isn’t having the desired effect on its subjects. It’s acting more quickly than what we developed on Chaiavis, so progress is being made on that front, but we can’t have it killing everyone who is exposed to it. It needs to be a supplement, not a detriment.”

“Then what’s the point of exposing multiple people at once? Why aren’t we just testing revised formulas on a single person like we used to?”

“You’ve seen the news feeds, Lieutenant. Over ninety people were exposed to some extent at the base, which means we have ninety new data points, ninety new sets of results. That’s also ninety less people who can retaliate against us, assuming they ever even find out who attacked them.”

“And what happens if one of these formulas actually works?”

“Well then Haphez won’t be a neutral world anymore, will it?”

That was the key. Assuming the chemical engineers managed to design a nostium formula that didn’t cause its subjects to drop dead, select groups of Haphezians would suddenly become Nosti without even meaning to. Sadey took that back – they’d never be
real
Nosti. The act of wielding Nostia and a personalized kytara was an art form they’d never understand. Still, the Federation wouldn’t see it that way. One anonymous tip to the Feds would be all it would take to start a war with the Haphezians and leave the rest of the galaxy oblivious to Ronan’s intentions. The Haphezians were really nothing but a scapegoat in this situation, and unfortunately for them, they’d set themselves up perfectly for it thanks to their desperate attempts to remain uninvolved and independent over the years. Once the Federation got wind that something was amiss, that neutrality would be gone in a heartbeat.

“The Haphezian military is the perfect candidate for this experiment,” Sadey continued. “If bad nostium doesn’t wipe them out, the Federation will. Either way, we don’t have to worry much about them coming after us.”

“And the purpose of my mission is to cut the head off the snake,” Jalen said. It wasn’t a question; he
did
understand.

A smile crept onto Sadey’s lips. “Exactly. If nothing happens, we’ll know we have a successful formula and the Feds will be out here to clean up in no time. And if it doesn’t work, it will further cripple the military, and we can revise the formula accordingly. Either way, it’s a win for us.”

Jalen mimicked her sly grin. “I’m proud to have been chosen for this assignment, ma’am. I won’t let you down.”

“Glad to hear it, Lieutenant. We’re trying the formula in a gaseous state again; that way it has the most chance of affecting multiple people. Inserting it directly into the ventilation system and trapping it in an enclosed space may be helpful in terms of ensuring a consistent degree of exposure in all victims.”

“Understood.”

“The nostium won’t affect you, of course, but I want you to get out of there as fast as you can anyway. The high-priority target is going to draw a sizable law enforcement presence. This is not a suicide mission. We want you to come back alive if possible, but if you
are
captured and escape is not an option, I assume you have a contingency plan.”

Jalen nodded and tapped the small pocket on the left shoulder of his stealth suit, the same pocket where they all kept their choice of suicide pill. Ever since the war with the Federation over twenty years prior, the Nosti way of life had hinged on its ability to remain a secret. In the rest of the galaxy’s eyes, they were simply common people, ordinary members of various Resistance civilizations. But being captured – by anyone, not just the Feds – likely meant their secret would be revealed, and over two decades of hard work and planning would be down the drain. None of them were strangers to the idea of giving up their lives for the cause.

“And I assume you have some sort of odor-masking spray? You know how the Haphezians are.”

“I do, ma’am.”

Sadey allowed her features to soften a bit. “Just listen to me, going on about things you’ve already been briefed about.”

“It’s all right,” Jalen replied with a smile. “Glad to know you’ve got my back.”

“Well then. Don’t let me keep you from your preparations. You’ll find the capsule containing the nostium down in the med bay. I’m expecting mission confirmation at any moment. When that happens, it will just be a twenty-minute FTL jump to the Noro system. Go make us proud, Lieutenant.”

“Yes, Commander,” Jalen said, the confidence rolling off of him in waves. He gave her another hearty salute and strode out, once more leaving her alone in the silence of her cabin.

Satisfied with the state of her kytara, Sadey bypassed the workbench and moved straight to the viewport, standing at rest as she let herself get lost in the view again. She’d never been to Haphez; this mission was the closest she’d ever come. Before Ronan’s plan had been set in motion, most Resistance fighters had steered clear of the planet for fear that they’d be discovered by the Haphezians and turned over to the Federation. The Nosti especially had kept their distance, not fans of the idea of being executed on sight.

Jak Gamon had been the only one of them to ever effectively establish himself on Haphez. At the time, Phase One of their plan hadn’t been scheduled to start for another five years, but he’d insisted that starting early would increase the chances their little experiment would succeed. Not to mention, an independent world like Haphez was a perfect place to hide from the Federation immediately following the war.

He’d been right about starting early. That little girl he’d stumbled upon had ended up being the perfect recruit. Naturally strong and intelligent, but driven by anger and the desire to fight – she was everything they’d been hoping for and more. Gamon had kept the rest of them updated on her progress but had suggested withholding the truth about her purpose from her until it was time to come join the rest of the group. Sadey and Ronan had both warned him against it, but he’d feared the girl’s allegiance would be underdeveloped if he told her any sooner.

In the end of course, they’d been right. They’d waited a full day after Gamon was scheduled to bring Ziva Payvan to them before accessing the Haphezian news feeds. Sure enough, Gamon was dead, overpowered and killed by his own student. Sadey had petitioned to try again, citing the overall success of the project despite the outcome, and had even volunteered to go to Haphez herself. But Ronan wouldn’t hear of it, not after that incident. The Haphezian authorities had become hyper-vigilant, and sending another Nosti to the planet was far too risky. So instead they’d spent the past ten years quietly working through the remaining phases of their plan, struggling through the parts that had originally relied on Gamon and Payvan’s contribution.

No one had ever discussed the details, but Sadey knew some of her counterparts in Resistance leadership had considered hunting Payvan down after all these years and still finding a way to work her into the plan. Up until a couple of months earlier, she hadn’t even known where to start looking, but then they’d caught wind of an assassination Payvan was wanted for and had found her name in various news networks throughout the Fringe. She was in her late twenties now, an operative for the Haphezian Special Police. That alone effectively rendered her too hot of a target; any attempts to go after her would draw far too much attention, assuming they could even find in her in the first place. The woman was trained to disappear, and according to the news, she’d done just that after the assassination.

Sadey sighed and turned away from the window. Having Payvan and being able to study a successful Haphezian nostium infusion would have been – and would still be – immeasurably helpful to their efforts, but alas. They were doing just fine without her; things were just moving more slowly than any of them had wanted. The original plan had been to recruit one Haphezian to their cause and then essentially blackmail the rest of them into joining unless they wanted the Feds to come after them. The idea was that there was strength in numbers; a single civilization, regardless of its military prowess, would be obliterated by the Federation, but joining the Resistance would give the Haphezians a chance to defend themselves. But after Gamon’s death, they’d instead focused their efforts on converting as many remaining Resistance members as possible to Nosti. The Feds had sent them limping back to their side of the Core following the war, and even now, over twenty years later, they were still trying to rebuild. They may have had inferior numbers, but when the vast majority of those people had covertly become skilled Nosti, the odds began to tip back in their favor.

Her comm system came alive the moment Sadey turned and laid eyes on it. She rushed over and watched with bated breath as a blinking light on the console flashed yellow then turned green. Ronan hadn’t wanted to risk voice transmissions for this particular mission – the crew of the
Vigilance
had literally been waiting for a green light.